Sequence
by Allura01
Summary: Imagine waking up one morning and realising that your world has suddenly been tipped upside down. Nothing new for Suze, huh? But there’s a twist: Someone’s been planning this from the very beginning, and they’ll stop at nothing until they win.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mediator series or any of its characters; Meg Cabot owns them … lucky duck.

* * *

**Sequence**

White.

Everything was so meretriciously white.

I shifted slightly from where I was lying, and sat up slowly, on the sturdy white bed, draped with thin white sheets, which were currently entangled with my uncovered legs.

As I stared at the blindingly white walls before me, I searched my mind hastily for answers. I squinted my eyes and furrowed my eyebrows, turning thoughts repeatedly in my mind as I scrutinised every memory for comprehension.

Where was I? Was this _the_ afterlife, which I had constantly speculated on? Was this the fate that had been planned for me - based on my previous actions?

It couldn't have been…

Shivering slightly, I threw my bare feet off the bed, allowing them to brush with the cold, polished, white flooring and breathed in deeply, accepting the cool sterilised air, which rapidly filled my lungs, and attempted to calm the clawing emotion that was building up within me.

Fear. Is that what they call it?

Everything was so silent, eerily silent; I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck, prickling and standing up on edge, as I scanned the room carefully.

My eye finally caught on the white door at the far end of the room, and I sought out for the shiny brass knob that should have been extruding from the wood. Instead, I found nothing.

What kind of place was this?

I jumped up quickly, making my way over to the door, searching blindly with numb hands for some kind of escape. Maybe it was a trick, an illusion of the mind. Maybe there was actually a door handle there, and I was just missing it.

After a while of fumbling with the minute cracks of the door and brushing my hands, flatly, along the grained surface of the painted door, I released the unsteady breath that had been gradually increasing in my lungs, as I bordered on the edge of panic, and I gave up.

I ran my hands, anxiously, through my hair whilst shaking my head frenetically in confusion and backing into the wall behind me. My back sidled along the edge of the white barrier as I sunk down, pressing my knees to my chest and resting my pounding head in my arms.

As I closed my eyes to the darkness, which soon enveloped my body and soul, one last thought raced intensely through my mind … I didn't do it.

* * *

**A/N** – Yeah, hey there mediator fans! This is my first entry under this category, so don't be too harsh in your reviews – which you will do, right? Review, I mean, because I will love you for eternity! (Beams)

Anyways, I know this first chapter – which is actually a prologue – is extremely vague and completely mystifying, however, this is actually, exactly what I was striving for … **confusion**. I was hoping that maybe it would tempt you guys to read on, for further chapters, which shall be up soon. Once the plot unfolds, everything in this chapter will be clarified, but I'm sure you've already sought out a theory on where this prologue is set; if not, don't fret, you'll find out soon enough.

Anyhow, enough of my useless rambling and onto what exactly, I would like you, _yes you_, to do: REVIEW!

Thank you so much for reading; I hope I didn't bewilder you too much.


	2. News Flash

**Sequence**

**Chapter 1: News Flash****  
**

The alarm buzzed blaringly, each vibration of the sound, tugging me faster out of my dream-like stupor. Groaning loudly, I rolled over and slammed my hand down on top of the blaring box, effectively silencing the damned object.

Peering through heavily lidded eyes, I stared at the flashing red digits in front of me. 'Six-forty-five' they notified me, I grimaced before rolling back over and falling asleep again. Hell, it was a Sunday; I could sleep in if I wanted to.

However, apparently, that was not the case at all. For only forty minutes later, my mother was bustling into my room, pulling my window open. I was only half-conscious for this part, but I could identify her actions through the sounds of her movements.

A few seconds later, I heard the click of her heels, making their way over to me before she shook me lightly, with cold fingers, rousing me from my peaceful state of mind.

"Suzie, honey, you have to wake up now. I have to do a few things this morning, so I'll be out for a while and oh …" she paused for a second, and in that time, I opened my eyes slowly to stare at her, squinting against the early morning sun's rays, which were pouring in through the open window. "Jesse's downstairs, waiting for you in the kitchen."

My eyes snapped open fully, all drowsiness washing swiftly from my body and I pulled myself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, "What- what … why?"

My mother shot me a look, before shaking her head and replying, "He is your boyfriend, right? Doesn't he have the right to visit his girlfriend when he wants to?"

"Of course he does," I glanced furtively towards my clock before adding, "but not at seven-twenty-five in the morning."

My mother shrugged before tugging my sheets off me, "Well, I thought it was sweet of him."

I sighed deeply as she walked to the door again, "I'll be down in five."

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Ten minutes later found me in the kitchen, nibbling on a piece of toast whilst staring, mesmerized, at the Spanish boy in front of me, who was currently engorged in an article of the 'Carmel Pine Cone', the local newspaper, and sipping on a mug of steaming hot coffee.

I frowned, was _this_ all he came over for? Was _this_, the reason that he woke me out of bed at seven in the morning? To read a _newspaper_ which he could undoubtedly get his hands on anywhere else?

I sighed, deeply, letting him know that I was not amused with the interaction between us – or lack of, I should say.

I could think of a few other things that we could be doing right now; one of them didn't even involve talking.

Dark liquid eyes swayed from the print in front of them, to gaze at me, as a small smile traced at his lips, unsurely.

"Having fun?" I asked, drumming the tips of my fingers against the wooden table beneath me.

Dark, curious eyebrows rose to be concealed behind thick, dark locks, "Yes."

I groaned, "_No,_ Jesse, you're not _supposed_ to be happy."

His face twisted into an expression that was full of bewilderment, "Oh? And why not querida?"

I rolled my eyes in frustration; he really didn't know anything, did he? Well not about the basic concepts of a relationship.

"Because, _this,_" I gestured to the table, and then to me and him, "is _not_ fun."

Jesse laughed, amusedly, flashing me his perfectly white and straight dentals. Which got me thinking, for about the millionth time, how he had managed to maintain such perfect teeth, I mean, I was pretty sure that they didn't have orthodontic surgeries in the mid eighteenth century.

"Well then, Susannah," his voice quickly hauled me from my thoughts, and I shook my head gently, "what do _you_ propose that we do instead?" he asked, his voice laced with light implication as he smirked, darkly at me.

I smiled. That was more like it. I moved off my chair and stood up, pulling the paper out of his strong hands and flipping it, unceremoniously onto the table. I glanced briefly at the main article on the first page, reading the headline, but not really taking it in.

Yes, indeed, my hormones were taking over.

I pulled Jesse to his feet and snaked my arms around his waist, my eyes drifting along his firm abs - strong ripples of the muscles were exposed to my hungry eyes, even beneath his shirt – past his chiselled jaw line and lingered on his lips.

I towed his head down to mine, and as soon as our lips met, the passion within me soared.

Oh, how I loved to kiss my sexy Latino beast.

I pulled away from him for a second, "We could do … this … if you …wanted?" I asked, between light kisses, in what I intended to be a sexually seductive voice, and which probably sounded like I was panting for my last breaths, or something. Charming, I know.

Suddenly, I wrenched away from him, jerking my body away from his soft, addictive touch, and tugging his hands away from my waist.

Jesse frowned, looking somewhat confused, and yet, disappointed in my unexpected actions. However, the shock that I was feeling must have registered on my face, as he suddenly grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look into his dark, concerned eyes.

"Susannah, what's wrong?"

I pulled away from him, yet again, and numbly leant my weight against the table. I did this for two reasons, mainly, the fact that my legs had abruptly turned to jelly, caused me to lose all form of balance against the gravitational force acting against me, and I needed something to hold me up. Secondly, I needed to retrace my eyes along the article that my eyes had skimmed over earlier.

I sunk into one of the chairs, slightly aware of Jesse's intense gaze on me, and pulled the newspaper towards me.

The heading blazed at me, vividly, the large, emboldened, inky black print, clarifying my prior assumptions.

'_The Slater Homicide'_

'_Eighteen year old, Paul Slater was constrained early on Saturday morning and accused of the homicide of his girlfriend, Kelly Prescott. Both citizens of Carmel-By-The-Sea were found unconscious, under the roof of the Prescott family house; the young Kelly, was lying on her bed, and forensics are saying that her death was caused by suffocation. Paul has efficiently been relocated, from the comforts of his grandfather's house on Seventeen Mile Drive, to a highly secured room, situated in the Monterey Mental Health Institution.'_

I tore my eyes away from the page, unwilling to read anymore, and inclined backwards in my chair.

I could feel Jesse's hot breath tickling my ear as he leant over me to read the article for himself, but it was doing nothing for me, stirring absolutely no emotions within me, hell, it wasn't even rousing my hormones.

I felt so devoid of all emotion … like a zombie, unfeeling and indifferent.

After a while, Jesse left his spot at my shoulder, and occupied the chair next to me, his gaze still intense and yet slightly cautious and uncertain.

"I can't believe it." I said stoically, after a few long minutes.

Jesse shifted slightly, somewhat uncomfortable under the tense, heavy atmosphere that was currently asphyxiating us.

Like Paul had Kelly.

I couldn't breathe; this was all too surreal for me. I mean, I know that I used to think that Paul was a cold-blooded murderer, but after a while, I began to think that my assumptions were incorrect, and even though he had left me in shadowland, to die, I was still hesitant to believe, that he was actually capable of such harsh cruelty.

"What are you going to do?" Jesse asked, softly, his hand coming to entwine with my own.

"I have to find out," I started, slowly, "I have to find out the truth."

* * *

**AN** – Hmm … is all clarified yet? If not, still don't worry, I haven't quite elaborated on what's happening, exactly, yet. 

I was intending to do so, more, in this chapter. Elaborate, that is, but I couldn't bring myself to do so, I just couldn't find it within me to continue this chapter, for if it were dragged on any longer, the rest would be useless, irrelevant gibberish.

So the chapters _will _get longer, I promise; I know that they are extremely short at the minute, but as the plot develops, I will lengthen the chapters to a suitable length.

**Thanks so much for reviewing:**

**Mrs. Nikki Slater** – Yay … confusion lol! I am so glad you liked it, although, I have to admit, there wasn't much of it in the prologue _to_ like. Is this update soon enough for you?

**starrynightdreamer** – I haven't read that story of yours, but when I get some free time, - which I've a shortage of at the minute – I will read it. However, I have read Fast Lane, and I have to say, I loved it.


	3. The Commencement

**Sequence**

**Chapter 2: The Commencement**

It was late afternoon by the time the car eventually pulled up, in front of the large white building. The tall iron gates, blocking the entrance – and probably with many cases, the exit – from visitors and patients. I stepped out of the car, slamming the door absently behind me, and walked up to the small cabin to the right of the gateway.

"Excuse me, sir," My voice was shaky. I have to be honest with you, I was scared … petrified, and you know me … I don't scare easily.

"Yes," the guard looked up from what I assumed to be a newspaper, but I couldn't see through the small window, and set down a large mug of coffee, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to-" think fast Suze. I could use the reporter disguise, but then, I guess that wouldn't get me an interview with Paul, oh damn, what to say, what to say… "Visit a friend," I finally concluded, cursing myself for not having prepared for this.

The man shook his head, the shiny bald patch at the top of it glistening under the dim light, "I'm sorry, missy, unless you're with a member of the family or an official, I'm 'fraid I can't let ya in."

"But-" I started, but the man cut me off by shaking his head.

"Sorry, but you'll have to leave."

I was reluctant to leave, but in a way, almost relieved. I wouldn't have to see _him_, and yet, I'd never find out the truth.

I made my way back to the small red car, parked by the pavement, and my hand had just brushed the handle when I heard my name being called from behind.

I brushed it off as a coincidence and opened the door, after all, who would I know around here?

"Suze, wait!" I spun around on my heel, squinting my eyes towards the small dark figure running towards me.

As the figure neared, I noticed the distinguishing features that set him out from any other that I knew. Thick locks of curly, dark hair, were brushing backwards in the wind as a flushed, young face stopped in front of me, kneeling down and panting, out of breath.

When he finally regained it - his breath that is - bright, soft, blue eyes turned to stare at me, both bloodshot, from what I assumed to be a lack of sleep.

"Jack?" I asked, in disbelief.

"Suze," Jack started, his eyes full of distorted confusion as he peered up at me, "What are you doing _here_?"

"Oh, uh," I brushed my hair quickly out of my eyes, tucking the stray strands behind my ear, "I was here to see Paul, but I can't get in."

"Really?" He asked, unsurely. The last time I had seen Jack, was when his brother had tried to kill my boyfriend, something that didn't quite put Paul Slater in my good books. "You're here to see _Paul_?"

I smiled at him. He had grown up quite a lot within the past – what was it, two years? His hair was somewhat wild, each curl framing his young face, but he strangely suited it, and he was taller, _much_ taller. The kid was only ten and he was only a few inches smaller than me. However, I guess that isn't saying _that_ much.

"Come with me," he chirped, almost happily, however, a strange, sad, depressing tone managed to entwine into his voice, letting me know that the happiness was only a show. Poor kid, he must have been devastated. He really looked up to Paul and then something like this happens?

He slipped his hand into mine and tugged towards the gates, which opened immediately in front of us.

"Thanks, Bill, she's with me!" Jack called back. He seemed so mature for a kid his age, which was a stark contrast to the way that he had behaved a few years back, when he would hardly even step out of the hotel.

I glanced back quickly to the car behind me, and nodded my head curtly, in a quick gesture of reassurance.

--------------------------------------------

The metallic, pneumatic doors, slid back, allowing us entrance into the room. I followed until the woman ahead of me stopped, and pointed towards a small seat, in front of a large glass window.

"Pick up the phone, you have a few minutes; try not to be too long, Miss Simon."

I nodded, understandingly and slipped into the plastic seat, lifting the heavy black phone from the box and staring at it, curiously.

I was startled from my thoughts as a door slammed at the far end of the room. Glancing up, I saw a tall, brawny guard, whose thick hand was wrapped tightly around Paul's upper arm, in a way that looked very painful.

I unknowingly grimaced at the sight of him. It scared me to see him like this, he looked so … weak. Even though his posture was strong and bold - as though he was trying to keep intact with the last remaining shreds of his dignity - his usually tanned skin was paler than usual, his hair limp and lifeless, and his eyes were unbearably blank and helpless. The piercing blue was no longer as sharp and cutting as usual, almost as if they had been rendered blunt, and the cocky, egotistical smirk that normally graced his handsome face was nowhere to be seen.

When his eyes locked with mine, I felt my heart jump and twist violently, as if someone had suddenly grabbed it and was trying to wrench it callously from my chest; the icy blue orbs flashed lightly with a look of hope, but before I had a chance to study it, it had disappeared.

The guard shoved him, forward, and he stumbled slightly, before regaining his composure and walking towards the seat behind the glass. I reckoned that the guard was saying something to him, but what, I couldn't tell through the glass and walls.

As Paul slid his hand smoothly across the receiver on the other end, I tightened my grip on the one pressed to my ear.

"Suze," he spoke first, but his voice was weak and less threatening than I was accustomed to.

"Paul," I answered, my own voice shaking with anxiety, and maybe anticipation. I stared at him, and realized that he was now so close that I could determine a few new emotions within those fathomless eyes of his … seclusion, sadness and fear danced vigorously around the light blue orbs, none of them striking me as oddly as the last. From my experiences, Paul had never been fearful of anything, and it was heartbreaking watching someone so strong dissolve into something much more fragile.

"What do you want?" he asked, bluntly.

I was slightly taken back by his biting tone, but I dismissed it quickly, jumping to the point of my visit, "Answers." I pushed the front page of the newspaper up against the glass for Paul to read, but he turned away, waving his hand in a gesticulation of annoyance.

"I've seen it already, Suze." He drawled, his eyes growing darker as he glared at me.

"Did you do it?" His face contorted with livid anger.

"Do you have to ask?" he growled. Whoa, this guy really was bitter.

"Yes." I replied, "What happened, Paul?" I slipped the newspaper article back into my bag with one hand, my eyes fixed evenly on his.

"How the fuck should I know?" His use of words was inflammatory, but his tone was soft, as if he was musing on the thought, himself. "I just, woke up here … with no memory of what had happened. _Fuck_, I wasn't even with _her_." He looked pained, agonized, and a sudden pang of sympathy rolled through my body.

I sighed, "Paul, I don't have a lot of time, here-"

"You think that I did it, don't you?" He asked, his icy blue eyes throwing accusing stares at me.

"I don't know, Paul, I really don't." I shook my head solely and solemnly, my mind slipping back to the vibrant Kelly Prescott, who would no longer be the object of every guy's desire; no longer be the object of every girl's envy; and no longer be an object, or being on this earth, because of Paul. Allegedly.

"Dammit Suze, do you really think that _lowly_ of me?" he snarled, his lip curling slightly as he stared at me. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't know where you were, do you understand how bad that that looks?" I asked, my voice rising in protest to his anger, as if competing with his.

"Why are you here, Suze?" Paul asked, pushing his dark curls out of his eyes, with a strong yet shaky hand.

"For the truth," I answered, honestly.

"Well then, you want the truth? I'll give it to you; I didn't do it … I know I didn't."

"You have no proof Paul!" I objected.

"I didn't do it, you have to trust me!" He exclaimed, trying his best to keep his voice down.

"Trust you? Pfft … that's _not _possible." I snorted.

Paul lowered his voice, and casting a wary look over to the indifferent guard in the corner, he replied, "You can get me out of here … help me _get_ proof. I've been framed; you can help me fix this."

I nearly fell from my seat in shock, but he continued, "I can't shift in here, I don't understand why; maybe I'm too …" he thought for a moment, before solely drawing out, "distraught."

"No, no, no… I will be in so much shit if anybody finds out that I helped a murderer escape."

"Suze," his voice was much softer now, and the anger in his eyes was dying, giving way to hope, "look me in the eyes and tell me that you really think that I did it."

My eyes diverted, quickly to the wooden desk in front of me.

"See?" He questioned gently, "Suze?"

"But I don't know how to-" he interrupted, clearly knowing what I was getting at.

"- I told you that you shouldn't have quit those lessons," he tried to smirk, but it failed miserably as a faint lopsided grin tried to tug at his lips, which were adamantly glued into a sombre frown. "You'll work it out, though, I've told you what to do."

I sighed, dramatically and sunk my head into my hand.

"Suze?"

"I'll be back in a two weeks. Be ready," I answered before slipping the phone back into place and leaving the room, without looking back.

--------------------------------------------

"So?" Jesse asked, as I slid into the passenger seat, closing the door firmly behind me and throwing my bag to my feet. I looked up at him.

"So what?"

"Was it true?" he raised his dark eyebrows, questioningly.

"Honestly, Jesse," I started, sinking back into the seat and throwing my head against the headrest, "I don't know."

* * *

A/N – Ahh, I don't really like this chapter. There wasn't enough tension, but the next one should be good. You get to meet a very important guy to my story … I love him already lol, he's so … ooohhh I can't explain, but anyways, he'll be like marmalade. You'll love him or you'll hate him. 

**: Thank you, guys, you rock my world:**

**Mrs. Nikki Slater** – I'm sorry, you're probably not going to like what I'm going to say next. This fic isn't going to be fluffy … I'm sorry! I know that I stated one of the main themes as romance, and that's true, in fact really true, but the thing is … well it's kind of meant to be thrilling too, so I can't include too many fluffy moments. This whole plot revolves around romance though … it's quite a different romance than most are used to though. Hmm … I don't know, I have a weird mind.

**starrynightdreamer** – Maybe he has, maybe he hasn't lol. Anyways … it's _only _Kelly … hehe, joking! And to 'why does Paul have to ruin every single fluffy moment?' Well, because he's Paul Slater. He's hot, irresistible, annoying and isn't much into fluff … well in this fic anyways lol. Anyways, I have to say to you too, that there won't be much fluff in this fic_. Please _don't stop reading because of that, because it will have romanticism, but little fluff. I'm sorry.

**tangopepperoni** - Thanks! I'm glad that you like it. Although, it should get better once the plot gets rolling. (smiles)

**bbblfl** – Aww, thank you so much, I'm flattered, honestly. Anyways, as I've stated before, I hope that this will get better once the plot starts rolling!

**Lady Storm** – Lol, you don't need to say anything else. Thanks very much, I'm so glad you like it, and I hope you continue to read (and like lol)

**La fonda** – Yes murder … and let me let you in on a secret … only this once though. That's not the last. Thanks for the review!

Review my pretties! REVIEW!


	4. Mystification

**Sequence**

**Chapter 3: Mystification**

"We are united here today to commemorate the tragic death of Kelly Prescott…"

The early morning fog still hadn't lifted from the sparkling green grass as I stood in silence, my head bowed evenly down to the ground as I paid my final respects to the former beauty queen of Carmel.

The cool breeze was chilling against my face as I peered at the crowds surrounding me. The recent tragedy had stirred the small town of Carmel, bringing with it an awkward atmosphere of tenseness and depression, which spread through the citizens with every breath of fresh air.

The expressions were mourning and regretful, grieving the loss of a young teen whose life had been ruthlessly stolen from beneath her.

"Today, in the face of this terrible tragedy, we can empathise with the family and friends of Kelly, but most importantly, we must remember to encourage. We can encourage each other to be strong in these times of hardship; we can encourage people in their faith, and their strength; to be strong for Kelly." Father Dominic stood in front of us all, his strong, faithful, bright blue eyes spreading reassurance through the crowds with a wave of hope. His strong voice held everyone's attention as he carried on, reinforcing the strength in his sombre audience.

"… Because not one of us can comprehend how such a thing could happen to such a strong seventeen-year-old; how a girl who was so full of life, who had so much to give, could be taken away from us so suddenly."

A weak sob was ripped from Mrs Prescott's throat and she wavered on the spot, her thin, shaking hand holding a cotton handkerchief to her mouth whilst her balance was only attained from the support of her husband, who was equally distraught, but bracing a brave face; most likely for his wife … and maybe the neighbours.

I pulled my gaze away and bit my lip.

I didn't understand what was going on. None of this was comprehendible at all. Who was behind this? Was it really Paul?

I felt a strong hand slip inside of mine, securely, and I gazed up at my boyfriend, whose eyes held great sorrow for a girl he had barely even met. I smiled forcefully and leant into him, inhaling deeply and relishing in his strong, assuring scent.

"What hatred must lie in someone's heart to make them commit such a callous act?" He stopped and I frowned. Was he angry? At Paul, maybe? But this was father Dominic, there was no way that he would judge his assumptions on what a news reporter stated. Father Dominic has faith in even the most untrustworthy people.

A silence reigned through the air; the only sounds audible were the rustling of the trees as the breeze passed through them and the muffled sniffling of lamenters. The crickets were silent … the birds were silent … and it was unnaturally eerie.

"We may never know," he continued, solemnly, "but what we do know, is that we must never let hatred take hold of our hearts. Hatred causes us to suffer. Our hearts were not meant to bear hatred, but to love with all the goodness that we can possibly possess; as Kelly had." He finished, and I frowned once again, but soon dismissed his last words as comments from behind me, reached my ears, tugging my attention.

"They're a dangerous family. I always knew it."

"Insanity runs in their blood; look at their grandfather, he was one strange old man. And now Paul, committing an act of such violence; I say that we should get the younger kid out of here – what's his name … Jack – before something happens with him."

A gasp resounded from another of the discreet gossipers.

"My _daughter_ … she's with that young boy … Jack."

"What? She's only _eleven_."

"I know, but she's fascinated by the lad. I never did like him though; he always was a shady one."

I stopped listening to their conversation, constraining myself from confronting them, and declared, right then, that I was going to find out the truth. No matter what.

My train of thought immediately cut off as something, from the corner of my eye, caught my attention. Diverting my full awareness to the figure, leaning against a sturdy tree in the near distance, I realized that I had never seen him around Carmel before. There were many people that I didn't know, but I had at least _seen_ most of the inhabitants of the town.

I studied him carefully. Noting the way his tall, lean yet muscular body rested firmly against the trunk of the tree; how the masses of dark hair fell carelessly upon his forehead striking a stark contrast against his pale skin and attempting to disguise the sharp, cutting intenseness of his pale green eyes.

His gaze was shooting in my direction, but as my eyes focused on his, I came to find that the glares wasn't directed at me, but at Jesse.

As if feeling my lingering stares, his piercing eyes suddenly jumped to mine, flickering suddenly with something that resembled amusement and his pale lips twitched into a crooked smirk. My heart flipped in my chest as his gaze cut into me, penetrating my skin and stirring the blood in my veins.

"Jesse," I turned slowly away from the boy, my eyes tearing away from his, and faced Jesse. "Who is that guy?" I asked, inquiringly, raising an eyebrow whilst cocking my head in his direction.

Jesse frowned, confused, before peering over my shoulder and then gazing back at me. "Who?"

"Him, that guy over there, he's around my age, kind of tall, dark hair …" I drifted off as Jesse stared at me.

"_Querida_," he said, softly, "There's nobody there."

Scowling, I spun around, my finger pointed – yes, I know it's rude, but frankly, I don't give a damn – and ready to display to my boyfriend, the curious looking guy over by that …

Hold on. Where the _hell_ was he?

"He was there a second ago, I swear," frustration was readily coursing through my body as I frantically glanced around at the departing mourners, scanning for the boy I had seen earlier, "And he wasn't even glowing, so he couldn't have been … you know."

I released a deep breath of air, whilst frowning profoundly.

He was _so_ there. I was _not_ imagining things. I was _not_ crazy.

"Susannah, it's been a long morning, we should get you home." Jesse placed a warm, comforting hand on the small of my back, leading me towards the cemetery gates as I continuously searched the area.

As Jesse tugged the wrought iron gates from there place, I cast one last look across the grounds before sighing and allowing Jesse to lead me home.

Maybe I _was_ just delirious.

-----------------------------------

_Concentration … is the key._

My eyes were clamped shut and a vast darkness threatened to consume my mind as I focused on my room. Envisioning everything; allowing myself to slip into a three-dimensional, virtual world.

"Susannah."

Concentrate. Concentrate. Concentrate.

"Susannah." Jesse's voice was more persistent, as he adamantly attempted to grab my attention.

I felt power, great power, surging uncontrollably through my body, tingling each nerve and muscle over and over again like relentless light shocks of electric. It was overwhelming, the pressurized energy that was building up inside of me was claiming my body, and I was losing control. But I had to keep concentrating.

"_Susannah_."

"What?" I snapped, my eyes opened and the power from within drained instantly, leaving me feeling exhausted and weary and each one of my muscles crying in protest as my knees threatened to buckle beneath me.

"I told you that this would happen. You don't have enough energy to do this so many times in one day." Jesse commented as he came to stand beside me, his arm slipping around my waist as he led me to my bed.

"But, I was nearly there. I felt the power, Jesse, if you hadn't distracted me, I would have-" I complained, but Jesse silenced me with a shattering kiss.

His powerful lips moved against mine, and once my mind had caught up with me, I reciprocated his movements and linked my arms around his neck, drawing him into me, and deepening the kiss.

"If I hadn't stopped you, querida," started Jesse as he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine and caressing my cheek, tenderly, with his thumb, "You would have killed yourself."

"No I wouldn't-" but once again he cut me off, kissing me fervently with a passionate demand.

Pulling away once more, he stated, "Yes, you would have. The energy that you were calling upon is draining; when you use it, it takes a part of your energy with it. You didn't have enough energy to give."

"And that would have killed me?" I asked, doubtfully, as I raised my eyebrows high.

"Yes, actually, it would have. Don't you need energy to keep your heart beating?" He smiled gently, placing a light, chaste kiss on my lips.

My heart soared.

"Yeah, yeah, doc, whatever you say." I laughed then frowning, I added, "Jesse, it's been a week now, how come I still can't manage this? Am I _that_ weak?"

Jesse shook his head, and rolled over, so that he was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, "No, you are not weak, just tense. You are too nervous when practising … Maybe we shouldn't do this, I mean, I never could figure out why you were doing this in the first place."

"Because it's Paul." Was my haste reply, blurted out before I even had time to think it over.

"Precisely," Jesse shifted slightly, and turned towards me again.

"I have this feeling, Jesse, that he's been framed. I mean, I know Paul's not the best guy around, but he didn't have anything against Kelly, not really anyway."

"Didn't they break up last week?" Jesse asked, emotionlessly.

"Yeah, but Paul broke up with her. It doesn't make any sense." I sighed in frustration, and grabbing a pillow, I covered my face and inhaled deeply, preparing to scream.

However, the pillow was quickly ripped out of my hands and Jesse's concerned face peered down at me, fear dressing his handsome features.

"Don't do that;" he warned, his voice slightly croaky. I frowned, confused.

"What? Why not?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"Because that's what happened to Kelly," he tore his gaze away from mine, and stared out of the bay window, his body becoming suddenly tense and rigid.

I slipped my hand into his, entwining my fingers around his long ones, yet still, he remained immobile.

"Jesse?" I questioned, nervously, as I shuffled towards him.

Jesse's body jumped, as if startled and he turned towards me.

"It's getting late, I should go." My eyes flickered quickly to the window, where the sun had set, leaving behind the dark purple and blue hues that stained the sky with darkness.

I nodded numbly, "Are you okay?"

Jesse smiled, hesitantly, "Of course, _querida_, I'm just tired."

"You're tired? I'm whacked." Jesse frowned unsurely. When was he going to get used to these modern sayings?

"Probably not for a while," Jesse smiled at my outspoken thoughts, before kissing me gently on the top of my head, "I'll see you tomorrow, mi querida. Goodnight."

As Jesse left, I clapped my hands together, consequently turning off my lights and drowning in the sudden darkness. My eyes closed sleepily as I drifted into a dream-like state, however, something inside of me wouldn't let me sleep.

A sense was gnawing away at me, triggering alarms inside my head and alerting me that I wasn't the only one present in the room. A wash of cold fear flooded my body as I lay still, frozen, anticipating my next move with frantic, racing thoughts.

The darkness was thick, overpowering, suffocating my mind with its shadowy vastness, as I willed my eyes to adjust quickly. But my sight wasn't coming to me, it was rendered useless in this threatening space surrounding me. I was left vulnerable, with my impaired senses, to the other presence who was currently hiding amidst this black void. I shuddered, as a jolt of dread traced down my spine.

Suze … get a hold of yourself, you can't _see_ anything, you can't _hear_ anything … _nothing's_ there. You're just being paranoid.

Right. Paranoid, I just have a bad case of paranoia.

Nevertheless, I knew that my mind wouldn't rest until I'd assured myself that there was, in fact, nothing there.

With swift, steady movements, I drew my palms quickly together, causing a resounding slap to echo from their collision. The lights flickered on quickly, and I scanned the room with cautious eyes.

There was nothing there

I sighed deeply, releasing a breath of relief as my body and mind eased. My eyes felt like lead as they drooped, drowsily, attempting to block out reality and give way to exhaustion. I surrendered myself to the overwhelming tiredness and my eyes closed for sleep.

"Night, Suze."

A rush of adrenaline filled my blood; my heart started pumping fervently in my chest and my eyes shot open, blind to the dark.

* * *

A/N - Eeeeek! Whoa ... I'm craving for some galaxy chocolate now ... mmm... anyways. Review, pretty, pretty please? 

**Hey all** (3)** reviewers lol ... How goes it? **

**Thanks for the reviews: **

** Mrs. Nikki Slater** - So would the 'Slater' on the end of your name, insinuate that your a PFCer? I'm confused. You seem to be voting for Jesse a lot lol.

**BoosyBoo -** I don't know what chapter you've read to, or if you've given up before you've even reached chapter three, but i have to say that your review was great and it meant a lot, thanks.

**La Fonda -** Yeah, i know ... poor Paulie. The final pairings aren't too clear to me at the moment, but i hope you'll like the conclusion anyways lol. Thanks a lot!

**starrynightdreamer **- Hmm ... yeah, the poor doll; I agree, she didn't deserve to die, but unfortunately, this is how the plot goes. lol. Great that you'll continue to read, thank you, i love ya for that lol!

Hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I did writing.


	5. Wreaking Havoc

**Sequence**

**Chapter 4: Wreaking Havoc**

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" I yelled, threateningly, to the white mass surrounding me. The air was cold and chilling, as I frantically paced the room. I was losing my mind. I knew it.

Silence greeted me in return.

"Stay away from her!" I continued. He was here somewhere. I could sense his damned eerie presence. "I mean it. If I find out that you have laid one bloody finger-"

"Shh…"

I abided by his orders, clamping my mouth shut firmly. My jaw set tightly.

"Patience, Slater, is a virtue."

"What the hell are you on about?" I countered, demandingly, my anger getting the best of me.

"In time, things will become clear. Patience is what you need for now. She's safe, at the minute, but if you do anything irrational, I'm afraid that this urge to … cause destruction and havoc … and maybe even demise, will be let loose."

His voice was so calm, and the tone almost amused, subsequently, this infuriated my burning rage. This guy was the one that should be locked up; not me. He was completely _fucked up_.

"_What_ things?" I demanded.

"Patience, Slater, is a virtue." He repeated coolly.

I breathed in, deeply and evenly, in and out.

"You can't stop playing yet. It's only _starting_ to get_ exciting_."

"Stop playing what?" I threw my head back so that I was staring at the ceiling and shut my eyes, blacking out the whiteness.

"My game."

I blanched and swallowed, hard.

"This is a _game_ to you? You _torture_ people for your own _bloody_ amusement, do you?" It was getting colder. I was loosing all feeling in my lower limbs, as they dangled carelessly over the edge of the white bed.

I pulled the sheets tighter to my body.

"It's a little more than that, but yes, that's the basics." he chuckled.

A sudden shiver raced down my spine before anger immersed me completely.

-----------------------------------

"Nancy…"

"No, don't touch me." Nancy Slater jolted away from her husband's touch, her eyes widened and still fastened to the glass pane in front of her, as she stared through the mirrored window, which gave her a perfect view of her eldest son.

A sharp, frustrating pain was constricting her chest, impairing her breaths and causing her respiration to become infrequent and irregular.

Paul moved swiftly about the room, his arms and legs rapidly diving through the air in sharp movements. His hands cut through the thin air before he thoughtlessly slammed his right fist into the far wall, not flinching once from the immense pain that she knew he would be experiencing.

Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill from their rims as she watched her hazy son incessantly and relentlessly hammer furious fists into the wall.

Beside her, her husband stared at the ceiling whilst running trembling hands through his dark hair. When he cast his eyes back down again, and through the tinted window in front of him, he inhaled deeply.

Rick Slater watched as his son struggled against the guards, thrusting against their movements, and trying, persistently, to escape.

"He's been talking to himself for quite some time now." A doctor said cautiously. Nancy, still rigid and fearsome, remained immobile as Rick turned to face the psychoanalyst.

"It's only been two weeks. What do you mean by 'quite some time'?" Rick inquired, irately. He eyed his wife, whose shoulders were now shaking uncontrollably as silent sobs quaked her body.

"For about a week, Mr Slater, Paul has been acting disorderly, like you have witnessed today." The specialist shook his head gently, "I'm afraid if this continues, we're going to have to move him to another department, where we can get him the appropriate help for his deep psychological issues."

Nancy's knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the ground, a loud thump resounding in the room from where she hit the marble flooring and pained cries escaping from her frail lips. For once, her reputation wasn't the only thing on her mind.

-----------------------------------

I hid in the corner of the room, ensuring that I was completely out of view. The last rays of the setting sun poured in through the bay window, casting elegant patterns of deep purple and red hues onto the wall opposite. I sunk to my knees, basking in the darkness that was currently drenching me and cast my eyes on the couple ahead.

Anger surged up from within, threatening to overflow and cause some serious damage. The view in front was completely sickening.

His arms wrapped, protectively, around her small body, effectively pulling hers close to his own as his head tilted down, close to hers.

"_Querida_," he said peering down at her, lovingly; I grimaced. Why would she choose someone like _him_? He was so monotonous.

A cold wrath inside of me was trying, relentlessly, to let loose, and I was s_o_ close to letting go. I wanted this boy to _feel_ the powerful rage of hell.

And I was now fully capable of that. I smirked. How I loved being cold and calculated.

Suze's eyes snapped open to stare at the Latino boy in front of her, "Jesse?" she asked as her eyebrows raised subtlety.

"Do you know what day it is?" His head slanted further towards hers, his mouth only millimetres from hers.

"Yes. Thursday." She leant up, her back arching slightly as she moved nearer, and captured his lips in hers.

I blinked, longingly, as a desire to be in the Spanish boy's position filled my body. It took all my strength to control my irrational urges. However, I wouldn't do anything to spoil my plans, not after all that I'd done to get this far. I'd get exactly what I wanted in the end anyway.

"Indeed," his English was carefully laced with a Spanish tone, and his voice gratingly irritating to my ears. "And do you know what you're meant to do today?" He asked each time they pulled apart.

Suze's hand coursed up his chest, her fingers winding around the cotton of his shirt before grabbing his collar in a tight hold. I clenched my fists, furiously. "Yes, I know very well, that it has been two weeks since … well, _you know_. Nevertheless … I thought that you didn't-" She paused in her sentence as she pulled her arm to her chest, successfully hauling Jesse in with her, and kissing him fervently. "Care about Paul." She breathed, huskily.

"I don't." He answered evenly as he twirled a strand of her dark hair around his finger, and smirked slightly before pushing Suze onto the bed and continuing their heated session.

I grit my teeth in pent up frustration and focused on my next destination, before materialising.

I _would_ get what I wanted in the end, and for that to happen… Jesse _had_ to go.

-----------------------------------

Jack ran off the pitch, drenched in sweat and panting for air. He reached the edge quickly, and shook his head, before running a trembling hand through his hair, consequently tousling his dark curly locks.

I smiled, knowingly.

"They're so cute together." I turned slightly, to look at Tracy who was staring down at Jack and the small blonde haired girl beside him, who was grinning, almost manically as he talked to her.

"They are." I agreed, "Katie's totally wild about him, I've never seen her so happy. She's ecstatic; bounces around at home, protesting that she's in love and driving mom crazy." I tugged the elastic band from my hair, letting the blonde locks drop down onto my shoulders.

"Pity about his brother though," Tracy continued as she tugged off her sweater and draped it across her shoulders. "He was seriously hot. I mean … 'you would' hot."

I laughed and hauled my brush out of my bag, picking out a few stray hairs from between the bristles before dragging it through my hair. "Paul? Yeah, I liked him; he was always nice when I called round to his house. I don't believe he did it though."

"You don't?" Tracy tore her eyes away from the pitch ahead and away from the Robert Louis Stevenson basketball players that she had been shamelessly eyeing, "Becka, who else could have done it? He was found _in_ the room with her, at the time!"

I shrugged, indifferently, "I just don't believe he did it, it's just one of those feelings, you know? Anyways, she easily could have done it herself. I mean … if Paul Slater broke up with you, how would _you_ feel?"

"Suicidal." She answered, compliantly, twisting her body on the stands, so that she was now fully facing me. I tucked my hairbrush back into my bag and grabbed my lip-gloss.

"Precisely. It's like a Bryce Martinson and Heather - whatever-her-name-was – act." I applied the gloss carefully, cautious not to smear it and inserted it back into my bag. "Besides I don't think that Paul's capable of something as cold as murder." I pouted my lips as I gazed into my hand-held mirror. Perfect.

"What, exactly, did you two _do_ when you went round to his? He must have swayed you quite a bit to make you deny belief in his homicide." Exclaimed Tracy. I sighed, dramatically.

"Nothing happened, I just dropped by to pick up Katie, and he just so happened to answer the door and talk to me till Katie got down." Tidying my things quickly into my bag, I threw Tracy a smile before standing up and throwing it over my shoulder.

"Really?" she asked, sceptically.

"Yes. Really." I rolled my eyes at her disbelief.

"You're leaving already? How come?" She enquired, turning her attention back to the senior basketball players.

"Yeah, I don't really feel like hanging around here. Sorry. Plus, there's a guy over there who's catching my attention." I grinned, and nodded to the corner of the pitch, where there stood a tall, dark and extremely handsome guy. He leant coolly against the wall, one arm balanced on the ledge and the other dangling casually by his side.

Tracy sucked in a deep breath and made an approving face. "Oh, nice. Very nice. You have _got _to spill the details later, 'kay?"

I nodded, "Why? Because you want to make a move on him if I don't?"

"Spot on."

I turned, carefully making my way down the stands, one by one, wary not to lose my balance and make a fool of myself, especially since I was in my new Calvin Klein skirt.

As I made it to the bottom, I looked up at the guy whom I had noticed before, to find him staring at me; pale, enchanting green eyes, mesmerising, and piercing straight through me. I swallowed, unable to move under the intensity of his gaze as he moved towards me, somewhat resembling a tiger, stalking his prey.

"Hi," I greeted, once he was within hearing distance.

He smirked, his lips jerking up slightly, "Hi." He mimicked, almost mockingly. I resisted the urge to frown in confusion.

"Are you new here?" I sustained, trying to spark the conversation.

He nodded his head gently and held out a strong, muscular hand, "Chaos."

I hesitated, "Chaos?" I repeated, unsurely in an almost whisper.

"Yes." He grinned, crookedly, looking amused, "My name … is Chaos, and yours is …?"

"Oh… oh right," I felt the heat rise quickly to my cheeks. "I'm Becka; nice to meet you."

_Chaos_ … what a strange name.

"So, do you go to RLS?" I asked, eventually tearing my eyes away from his and moving towards the school gates.

As I had planned, he followed, catching up quickly with his large strides and falling into place beside me.

"RLS?" he asked, somewhat confused.

"Robert Louis Stevenson. This school." I elaborated, sneaking a quick glance at him. He was stunning, no really, _stunning_. His dark hair fell casually over his eyes in glossy wisps as he stared nonchalantly ahead.

"No." he answered steadily, his glowing eyes briefly flickering in my direction before a dark smirk appeared on his lips.

I blushed. "Junipero Serra?"

"No."

"Oh," I replied, "So what age are you then?" This was getting kind of awkward.

He looked thoughtful for a moment as I stared at him from my peripheral vision through the corner of my eye.

"Nineteen." I nodded. Cool! A college guy! Who's _totally_ interested in me!

"Seventeen, right?" He peered down at me from his height, and I suddenly felt small.

"Yeah. It's my last year. Thank God."

"So… would you happen to know Suze Simon?" He asked, suddenly, catching me off guard. Where, exactly, did that question fit into our conversation?

"_Suze Simon_ …" I had heard that name before, but from whom? … _Tad Beaumont_! "Yeah, I know o_f_ her, but I don't personally _know_ her. Why?"

"I was just wondering." His voice was so enticing, deep, and husky in a masculine kind of way.

"I'd heard of her from a guy I used to know, Tad, he'd dated her once. Honestly, if I had have met her, I don't think that I would have liked her very much. She seems very … _sluttish_." Like that Debbie girl, god, she was _so_ irritating.

Chaos grimaced and fell to a stop; I stopped too and turned to stare at him.

"Sorry, do you know her?" I apologized. God, I could be so stupid at times. Of course he did. What if she was his _girlfriend_? Damn.

He shook his head lightly, his unruly, dark brown hair swaying on his forehead, "Not really."

I frowned, "Okay."

Silence.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked after a few short – yet excruciating – minutes.

He shrugged, his long shoulders lifting casually into the air.

"We could hang out at my house if you'd like?" I invited, smiling vaguely.

His eyes flashed wantonly, and for a second I didn't trust myself. I didn't trust myself around this guy, something about him just seemed slightly out of place. However, it passed quickly and I shrugged it off as paranoia.

What harm could he do?

"Sure," he replied, his voice somewhat deeper than before and a sexy, roguish grin apparent on his full lips. I smiled.

"Cool."

-----------------------------------

"Hey, how are you?" I swept my annoying dark curls back, out of my eyes, with an unsteady hand.

"Umm … okay. You?"

She smiled, and I fought the urge to smile back. Katie's smiles were contagious. She was constantly bubbly and cheerful, always laughing and smiling at everything … everyone. One reason that I had liked her so much, and maybe the fact that she was the prettiest girl that I had ever met, helped.

"I'm great. I haven't seen you in a while though," She frowned and my heart plummeted, "it's like you're avoiding me. Are you, Jack?"

I hesitated.

"You are. It's what my mom said, right?" Her bright blue eyes were fading slowly as she stared at me, waiting for an answer.

I nodded. "Katie, I'm sorry, it's just that everyone's acting so weird around me now. Almost as if I'm going to turn around and-"

"Kill them." She finished for me and I unintentionally flinched. She lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder, her eyes suddenly looking teary. "Don't listen to them, Jack. I don't believe what anybody says about you, _or_ your brother. Neither does Becka."

"Yeah, but Katie, the guys," I gestured to behind me, where the junior basketball team sat on the benches, half watching the seniors play, the other half glaring daggers at my back. I could feel each of their eyes glaring into me. "They all hate me. Nobody even passes me the ball anymore, even though I _am_ the captain." I sighed.

"Maybe they do … hate you that is," she dithered, "but_ their _opinions don't matter. Only the people who _really_ care about you do."

"Yeah. You're right." How was she so smart for a girl of her age?

"Good. So are you coming out tonight?"

"No, sorry, my parents are out …" I hesitated before adding, in a whisper, "They're with Paul."

Katie nodded understandingly and smiled forcefully.

"Okay, well, I'll see you around."

As I watched her retreating back disappear into the school again, a strong pang of regret hit me suddenly, and an overwhelming wave of sadness drowned me in misery.

This was going to be a long week.

-----------------------------------

The phone rang abruptly, startling me from my concentration and I snapped my eyes open, groaning in frustration.

Dammit. I was _so _close.

After a few seconds, the irritating ring came to a stop. I figured that someone downstairs had answered it.

I closed my eyes again, breathing in deeply and composing my thoughts.

Think, Suze, of Paul, the white rooms, the white objects. White.

"Suze!"

I growled and stormed to my door, swinging the wood with an angry tug almost off its hinges.

"What?" I demanded.

"Phone for you. I'll transfer it to your line." Andy called up to me.

"Thanks," I half murmured.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, feeling extremely pissed off.

Hey! Can you blame me? I've been in my room for the past two weeks - during _all_ of my spare time - trying to master this damned shifting trick for Paul. Paul!

Why do I even bother? I could be at the beach … topping up my tan. But _no_ … Suze has to go bust her_ homicidal_ 'friend' from mental rehab.

Paul owes me. Big time. I hope he doesn't just cancel out this debt by offing me though.

I slapped my head with my palm.

Bad Suze!

Walking to my phone, I picked up the receiver once the ringing began.

"Hello?" I asked, wearily. It had been a long day, shut up.

"Suze! Hey. Long time no see …nor hear."

I laughed. "Hey Cee Cee, sorry, I've been caught up with other … things."

"As per usual. Anyways, how about you spare a little time for your _friends_? Remember us, Adam and Cee?"

"And me!" I heard Adam yell from the background. I frowned.

"Adam, you moron, I already said you." Cee Cee whispered to him, "So," she said, turning her attention back to me, "how about you meet us down at the coffee clutch in about thirty minutes?"

"Yeah, sure thing. I'll see you then." I answered, feeling somewhat relieved. Any chance to give myself a break from this strenuous training. Seriously, it's totally wearing.

"Oh, and have you seen this new guy in town?" Cee Cee asked, almost excitedly.

"No. Who is it?" I twisted the cord around my finger, uninterestedly.

"I'm not sure, although, I heard he's the girls' new eye candy."

I snorted. "Doesn't take much though, does it? Anyways, I'll see you guys in thirty."

I hung up and frowned down at the receiver. New guy? I wonder … could it be the one from the cemetery?

Maybe.

-----------------------------------

"Hey … Trace?"

"What's up, Becka?" I paused for a second, adjusting the position of the receiver, which was currently resting between my ear and shoulder as I painted my nails. "I saw you talking to that guy, _so_ how is he?"

"Scary." She replied, bluntly. I froze, my pink, frosted nail polish dripping onto my table, as I tried to comprehend what she had just alleged.

"Scary?" I repeated, uncertainly.

"Yes. He acts _really_ strange, and yet, he's so addictive … I can't get enough of him. It's almost as if I'm already … infatuated."

* * *

**A/N** – Whoa … Long chapter, eh? Well for this story it is. And I'm dreadfully sorry for the wait … no really, I am!

**Anyways, thanks for the reviews! Love you guys:-**

**-bbblfl **- Lol. No not quite her son lol, and not from the future, but I love that idea anyways and would totally use it if I hadn't already planned this lol.

**-Querida1607 **– Lol. Okay, (smiles) well, in this fic I'm not too sure about the pairings, but it'll all work out in the end – hopefully.

**-ceecee star pops** – Lol, yeah cliffies are annoying, but we writers love using them! And you should know lol. Awww, yay, a horror movie and suspense, how cool! Thanks, I really loved your review!

**-Tangopepperoni **– Yes, I know, this wasn't a quick update, but my internet was down for months … I nearly died lol.

-DemonicBallerina** – **Thanks so much. Yeah, I just decided to take a different turn in this story with Paul. But don't worry, I want make him out of character, nobody has to know that he feels like that in the inside, especially not Suze.


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